


[Tichondrius] Love is in the Plague

by bigfatass3000



Series: The Nighthold [1]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Awkward Sexual Situations, Canon, Demons, Humiliation, Love is in the Air, M/M, Magic, Nighthold, Power Dynamics, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 12:24:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9726806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigfatass3000/pseuds/bigfatass3000
Summary: Love is in the Air in February this year, and while the citizens of Azeroth are exchanging amorous words with each other, a few brave adventurers are sticking to their duties and raiding the Nighthold. In the heat of battle, what's a box of chocolates or bottle of perfume used as a projectile against a Dreadlord?And what does Gul'dan have to say about all this?





	

**Author's Note:**

> tichondrius is pretty hot tbh so of course i wrote some gay porn with him and our favourite fel dicker gul'dan  
> chapter 1 is tame

It was a clear evening when all through the Nighthold, not a creature was stirring, not even a Kobold. Only Tichondrius remained awake, pacing the floor of his chamber as if his life was at stake. He’d easily wiped out the last raid that dared encroach upon his territory three days ago, and nobody had come to bother him since. But… a lingering effect of something peculiar clung to his skin and sapped him of both strength and will as the hours went by. Now, there were rumors that another band of adventurers was fighting their way through the Arcing Aqueducts on their way to the Nightspire, where Gul’dan was performing a ritual. This ritual could not be interrupted, lest the wrath of Sargeras be cast upon the entirety of Suramar. Tichondrius sweated, his vast wings flexing in a show of fel-tainted anxiety. How was he supposed to fend off the latest rabble in this condition? His armour felt far too tight all over, as if it burned his flesh and pinched every nerve in his body. It wasn’t even _pain_ , but annoyance. Tension pulled at the muscles in his chest, turned his stomach, and kept him on edge. As a result, he had been snapping at his subordinates much more than usual, and they were lurking in the shadows just out of his immediate reach. Plenty of Abyssal Watchers had ended up with their eyes gouged out for the crime of observing the antsy Dreadlord. Today, Tichondrius could hear fighting in the courtyard and had a feeling Aluriel would not hold off the intruders for long. He clenched his clawed hands into fists, shivering.

_‘I must rid myself of this accursed malady before the hour of slaughter arrives. But I do not know what it is… Hm. Maybe that arrogant fool Gul’dan will.’_

He stormed out of his chambers and leapt from the balcony, beating his wings against the chill air to raise himself up, up into the sky and towards the Nightspire. A mix of Fel and Arcane energies swirled atop the Font of Night, where the Eye of Aman’Thul’s power was being channeled for the ritual. It seemed, however, that Gul’dan was not actively working at it. He was leaning against a large crystal and eating a steak sandwich. Upon noticing Tichondrius, he stuffed the rest of it into his mouth, wiped his hands on his tattered robes and held his staff in one hand.

“Gul’dan.” Tichondrius landed ten feet from the warlock, standing tall and proud with his wings folding neatly behind his back. Gul’dan inclined his head, a devious smile spreading across his face.

“Tichondrius. What brings you to me at this hour?” His fiery eyes narrowed. “You know the importance of the work I do here.”

“Just as well that it seems you are on a break.” Tichondrius snapped. The tone of his voice alerted Gul’dan to the fact that he _needed_ something, which was, though unknown, immediately leveraged in the orc’s favor. Gul’dan smirked, showing off his sharp teeth.

“I could be. Mm, the Master _does_ require his vessel prepared as soon as possible…”  
“This won’t take long.” Tichondrius noted Gul’dan’s gaze flicking up and down, taking in his appearance and magical signature. _‘Fantastic, he’s reading me. Fire and damnation! I cannot wait for the day our Lord Sargeras smites his smug little face…’_

“What, then?” Gul’dan sounded mildly irritated. “What do you want?”

“Three days prior I defeated the mortals who dared march into my quarters and demand a fight.” Tichondrius rubbed the side of his thick neck uneasily. Gul’dan watched with interest. “I noticed in the glorious chaos that one of them sprayed me with something, in means of attack, but of course I barely felt it.”

Gul’dan nodded. Demons were notorious for their ridiculous pain tolerance, to the degree that some could barely feel sword slashes upon their skin. Tichondrius was one who fought with corruption and magic, and required an army’s worth of steel to scratch him.

“After I had incinerated their corpses, there was a stench in the air, like those accursed flowers over there.” Tichondrius made a vague gesture in the general direction of Shal’dorei Terrace.

“Something sweet, right…” Gul’dan’s gravely voice had a slight drawl to it as he thought deeply on what might be affecting Tichondrius. Dreadlords were known for being haughty, know-it-all creatures that hated admitting a lack of understanding. “And this is bothering you, is it?”  
“Obviously!” The demon’s wings flared out, veins of yellow and green pulsing in anger. “Rrgh! It’s _infected_ me, like a plague, but much less wholesome!”

“You do not look well.” Gul’dan noted. Darkened cheeks, wild eyes and a quivering form… it was clear Tichondrius was trying his hardest to look _fine_. “But I do not see how this will affect your ability to fend off intruders, unless it is making you… weak?”

“NEVER!” A sharp slash to the side nearly hit Gul’dan in the face, and Tichondrius’s hands were shaking. “I want this curse lifted, **now**!”

Gul’dan stepped forwards, looking up at the Dreadlord who was thrice his height. Tichondrius glowered down expectantly, bright green eyes exuding immense heat. A few seconds passed, before Gul’dan inhaled. He coughed.

“Urgh. I know what that is.” He snickered, much to Tichondrius’s ire. “It’s perfume.”

“Per- _what?_ You mean to say that…”

Gul’dan cut him off with a wave of his staff, a second of silence so he could explain. “All over Azeroth, there’s a holiday around this time of year. People are drawn to each other and engage in all sorts of…” His right hand clawed at empty air, turning over and over as he sought the right words. “…activities.”

Tichondrius didn’t like where this was going, moreso because he had no idea what Gul’dan was on about.

“The goblins have made certain products that are circulated at this time, perfume being one of them. It has mind-altering chemicals that cause the target’s body to be flooded with desire, uncontrollable and all-consuming.”

“Desire…?” Tichondrius was beginning to get the picture, and it wasn’t a pretty one. Recognition could be seen upon his pale face as thoughts clicked together and formed an understanding of all this nonsense. He looked down a bit further, then immediately up. His armor _was_ tightest around the waist… and a bit lower than that. He cursed, and Gul’dan laughed.

“Whatever is the matter? You have a fine pair of hands, do you not know how to use them?”

Tichondrius tapped his fingers together, black claws clicking. “I cannot touch it.”

Now this was new. Gul’dan raised his eyebrows, straightening up a few inches before stooping back into his regular posture. “Wh..”

“It is too sensitive!” Tichondrius looked _ashamed_ , and that wasn’t something Gul’dan had **ever** seen on a demon’s face. And he had seen a lot of those. “I can’t get rid of this damned feeling!”

Understanding dawned, along with a mischievous grin that Gul’dan masked with false compassion. He stepped closer and put a hand on Tichondrius’s thigh, craning his neck to look up at him.

“My dear Tichondrius, what you need is a good, hard fucking.” He raised his staff. “And I have just the thing.”

**Author's Note:**

> if this gets posted to the forums i s2g


End file.
